Agnes Sorel. G. P. R. James

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СКАЧАТЬ in the same building, and the blast of a trumpet; but whether the latter noise proceeded from the streets or from the outer court, he could not tell. Every thing was still, however, in the corridor hard by. No one was heard passing toward the apartments of the duke, and the young man was somewhat anxious in regard to the prince's long delay. What were to be his occupations, what was expected of him, he knew not; and although he was desirous of purchasing another horse, in accordance with the hint given him by Signor Lomelini, the maître d'hôtel, he did not like to venture out, lest his royal employer should arrive, and require his presence.

      The unpacking and arrangement of his baggage afforded him some occupation, and when that was completed, he took out a book--a rare treasure, possessed by few in those days--and continued to read till the crooked letters of the copyist's hand began to fade upon the vellum, as early night approached. He was just closing the page, when there was a tap at the door, and a short, slight young man presented himself, some four or five-and-twenty years of age, but not much taller than a youth of fourteen or fifteen. He was dressed very plainly, in a suit of gray cloth, and the light was not sufficient to show much more; but every thing he had on seemed to have a gay and jaunty air, and his cap, even when he held it in his hand, exhibited a sort of obliquity of direction, which showed it to be impossible ever to keep it straight upon his head.

      There was no need of asking his name or business, for both were related in the fewest possible words before he had been an instant in the room.

      "I am Martin Grille," he said, "and I have come to be hired by your lordship."

      "Then I suppose you take it for granted that I will hire you?" said Jean Charost, with a smile.

      "Signor Lomelini sent me," replied the young man, in a confident tone.

      "He sent you to see if you suited me," replied Jean Charost.

      "Of course," replied the young man. "Don't I?"

      Jean Charost laughed. "I can not say," he answered. "You must first tell me what you can do."

      "Every thing," replied the other.

      Jean Charost mused, thinking to himself that a person who could do every thing was exactly the one to suit him, in a situation in which he did not know what to do. He answered, however, still half meditating, "Then I think, my good friend Martin, you are just the man for me."

      "Thank your lordship," replied Martin Grille, without waiting for any addition to the sentence; but, before Jean Charost could put in a single proviso, or ask another question, the door opened, and, by aid of the light from the window in the corridor behind it, the young gentleman saw a tall, dark figure entering the room. The features he could not distinguish; but there was something in the air and carriage of the newcomer which made him instantly rise from his seat, and the moment after, the voice of the Duke of Orleans said, "What in darkness, my young friend! My people have not taken proper care of you. Who is that?"

      The question applied to Martin Grille, who was retreating out of the room as fast as his feet could carry him; and Jean Charost replied, placing a chair for the duke, "Merely a servant, your highness, whom I have been engaging--an appendage which, coming from humbler dwellings, I had forgotten to provide myself with till I was here."

      "Ah! these people--these people!" said the duke; "so they have forced a servant upon you already, though there are varlets enough in this house to do double the work that is provided for them. However, perhaps it is as well. But I will see to these affairs of yours for the future. Take no such step without consulting me, and do so freely; for Jacques Cœur has interested me in you, and I look upon it that he has rather committed you to my charge, than placed you in my service. Come hither with me into a place where there is more light. Heaven knows, my thoughts are dark enough."

      Thus saying, he turned to the door, and Jean Charost followed him along the corridor till they reached what had been pointed out as his toilet-chamber, at the entrance of which stood two of the duke's attendants, who threw open the door at his approach. Followed by Jean Charost, he passed silently between them into a large and well-lighted room, and seating himself, fell into a deep fit of thought, which lasted for several minutes. At length he raised his head, and looked up in the young man's face for a moment or two without speaking; but then said, "I can not to-night. I wished to give you information and directions as to your conduct and occupations here; but my mind is very heavy, and can only deal with weighty things. Come to me to-morrow, after mass, and you shall have some hints that may be serviceable to you. At present sit down at that table, and draw me up a paper, somewhat similar to that which I dictated this morning, but more at large. The terms of accommodation have been accepted as to general principles, but several particulars require explanation. You will find the notes there--in that paper lying before you. See if you can put them in form without reference to me."

      Jean Charost seated himself, and took up the pen; but, on perusing the notes, he found his task somewhat difficult. Had it been merely a letter on mercantile business to some citizen of Genoa or Amalfi that he was called upon to write, the matter would have been easy; but when it was a formal proposal, addressed to "The High and Mighty Prince John, Duke of Burgundy," he found himself more than once greatly puzzled. Twice he looked up toward the Duke of Orleans; but the duke remained in profound thought, with his arms crossed upon his chest, and his eyes bent upon a distant spot on the floor; and Jean Charost wrote on, striving to do his best, but not certain whether he was right or wrong.

      For more than half an hour the young man continued writing, and then said, in a low voice, "It is done, your highness."

      The duke started, and held out his hand for the paper, which he read carefully twice over. It seemed to please him, for he nodded his head to his young companion with a smile, saying, "Very well--better than I expected. But you must change that word--and that. Choose me something more forcible. Say impossible, rather than difficult; and positively, rather than probably. On these points there must be no doubts left. Then make me a fair copy. It shall go this very night."

      Jean Charost resumed his seat, and executed this task also to the full satisfaction of the Duke of Orleans. When all was complete, and the letter sealed and addressed, the duke rang the little clochette, or silver bell upon his table, and one of the attendants immediately entered. To him he gave the epistle, with directions for its transmission by a proper officer, and the man departed in silence. For a moment or two the duke remained without speaking, but gazing in the face of Jean Charost, as if considering something he saw there attentively; and at length he said to himself, "Ay--it is as well. Get your cloak, M. de Brecy," he continued. "I wish you to go a few steps with me. Bring sword and dagger with you. There, take a light, as there is none in your chamber."

      The young secretary hurried away, and in two minutes returned to the duke's door; but the attendant would not suffer him to enter till he had knocked and asked permission. When admitted, he found the duke equipped for going forth, his whole person enveloped in a large, plain mantle, and his head covered with a chaperon or hood, which concealed the greater part of his face. "Now follow me," he said; and passing the attendant, to whom he gave some orders in a low voice, he led the way through that corridor and another, then descended a flight of steps, and issued out by a small door into the gardens. Taking his way between two rows of trees, he made direct for the opposite wall, opened a door in it with a key which he carried with him, and, in a moment after, Jean Charost found himself in a narrow street, along which a number of persons were passing. "Keep close," said the Duke of Orleans, after he had closed the door; and then advancing with a quick pace between the wall and the houses opposite, he led the way direct into the Rue St. Antoine. The night was clear and bright, though exceedingly cold, and the Parisian world were all abroad in the streets; but the duke and his young companion passed unnoticed in the crowd.

      At length they reached the gate of that large building at which the СКАЧАТЬ